War Wounds
by Soccus
Summary: What happens to a frontliner who will never fight on the frontlines again?
1. Prologue: Battle

**Summary:** What happens to a frontliner who will never fight on the frontlines again?

**Rating:** M (for angst, angst and more ANGST and mature concepts. Like war, which funnily enough is what transformers is all about. Sort of)

**AN:** I've had this in my head for a while and have been tapping away at it when I've had nothing better to do and couldn't be inspired enough for my other stories. Thus you get War Wounds.

The first four chapters have been written already and will be published weekly (this sort-of counts as one chapter so there are three more pre-written chapters to come).

I should warn ahead for angst, angst and even more angst (if you didn't look at the genres like me). What do you expect from a fanfiction titled "War Wounds"?

To start off War Wounds have this depressing little ditty by Siegfried Sassoon (World War One poet for those who don't know) whose poetry served as inspiration for the early chapters (and there's even more depressing stuff to come).

...

**Suicide in the Trenches**

I knew a simple soldier boy  
Who grinned at life in empty joy,  
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,  
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,  
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,  
He put a bullet through his brain.  
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye  
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,  
Sneak home and pray you'll never know  
The hell where youth and laughter go.

...

My final word as always is: Enjoy!

* * *

The battle was going as most other battles had gone on earth; in favour of the Autobots. By now the all familiar stage of "leaders wrestle while the rest of us miss the enemy by miles" had been reached.

Except this time it didn't quite happen that way.

By unspoken agreement, put in place when they had realised the problem of having a Combiner team with no mortal enemy facing them; namely friendly fire, the Combaticons were not supposed to be at the battle. The Protectobots were occupied on the other side of the Earth, a town there had been badly affected by an earthquake and it was in dire need of help. Optimus Prime had not, of course, refused and so the Protectobots did not show up for the battle over yet another power plant and the energy it produced.

Normally their counterparts on the battlefield, the Combaticons, wouldn't have shown up, instead somehow becoming occupied by something else. Maybe a business deal for Swindle or a tactical session for Onslaught. As long as they weren't on the battlefield anything would do.

How the Decepticons knew which Autobots were occupied at the moment was not really an issue (in any event it was usually the human information network that tipped them off, it was a topic persistently ignored by the Prime in order to preserve diplomatic relations with the humans), the system worked and that was all there was to it.

When Vortex and Swindle suddenly appeared to join the battle the Autobot officers didn't even think to worry. Notoriously disobedient team members of a psychotic combiner team showing up to a battle where they weren't wanted? Not unlikely.

When shots began firing from orbit they began to worry slightly, although Blast Off did show a preference for being as far away as possible from his team, preferably in orbit, and so his presence there was not too questionable as it allowed him to fight without having to be near anyone.

However when Brawl, known for being anything but stealthy, managed to sneak up to the sniping Bluestreak they knew that this had been planned, whether by Onslaught or Megatron they didn't know. After a flurry of communication between the officers, minus Prime who was still engaged in hand-to-hand combat with Megatron (who hadn't looked at all surprised when the Combaticons arrived), they ordered Sideswipe to back up their sniper. The frontliner had casually been shooting at one of the Seekers from behind a rock and had no problem with brawling with Brawl.

That was when the battle truly started to turn because as soon as Sideswipe reached the hollow in the cliff where Brawl and Bluestreak were fighting, Onslaught dropped in from above. If it hadn't been for his gladiator's reflexes Sideswipe could have been crushed under the tactician's heavy bulk and momentum. As it were, Onslaught didn't seem fazed by Sideswipe's quick roll and relentlessly pursued him. Brawl meanwhile, had basically put Bluestreak out of the battle by slamming the poor sniper's helm against the rock a few times and turned to help his team leader. Between the two, no matter how quick his reactions, Sideswipe wasn't able to dodge all their lunges and punches. He'd managed to get back on his feet by throwing Brawl off of his own when Onslaught managed the first serious punch to Sideswipe's helm, rattling him for a short moment. It only got worse as the fight between the three continued, Brawl managing to stand up again while Sideswipe was distracted. Sideswipe did manage to get a few punches in on the other two but eventually he was overwhelmed and the two Combaticons began mercilessly tearing into him.

Now, as mentioned previously, there had been by this point many unusual events in this particular battle on earth which did a lot to tip the delicate balance upon which the war rested, this time in favour of the Decepticons. If the battle had ended then and there it would have been a loss for the Autobots. Unfortunately for the Decepticons the frontliner two of them were presently trying to turn into scrap metal had a twin. A psychotic twin who was far more ruthless than the other and, when royally fragged off, even more prone to reckless action than Sideswipe.

Onslaught and Brawl beating his brother into stasis shot Sunstreaker's anger meter far past "royally fragged off" and straight into the danger zone of "psychotic rage".

The sound of Sunstreaker's wrathful, bloodthirsty roar signalled the beginning of the end of the battle.

* * *

So... interested?

Review and tell me what you thought please.

Eli


	2. Triage

**AN: **Thank you for all the lovely reviews on the first chapter! Since I got so many, I decided it was worth giving you guys something a little early (and I already have the fifth chapter finished so that's one less to do).

Poem for today is another Siegfried Sassoon. This one is even more depressing. It fits with the title and some of the content though.

**Warnings:** None for this chapter, unless you get disturbed by the transformer equivalent of open heart surgery

**Died of Wounds**

His wet white face and miserable eyes  
Brought nurses to him more than groans and sighs:  
But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fell  
His troubled voice: he did the business well.

The ward grew dark; but he was still complaining  
And calling out for 'Dickie'. 'Curse the Wood!  
'It's time to go. O Christ, and what's the good?  
'We'll never take it, and it's always raining.'

I wondered where he'd been; then heard him shout,  
'They snipe like hell! O Dickie, don't go out...  
I fell asleep ... Next morning he was dead;  
And some Slight Wound lay smiling on the bed

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or any poems by Siegfried Sassoon.

* * *

The medbay was frantic with post-battle activity, three of the patients having been given serious injury and many more having been hastily patched up so the worst patients could have priority. At the moment Ratchet was being furiously overworked between Sideswipe and Bluestreak whose systems had been failing in tandem since their rescue from the Combaticons via a psychotically enraged Sunstreaker. Hoist was operating on their third critically endangered patient, Slingshot, who had got in the way of the equally psychotic Vortex; the Combaticon not having taken the beat-down of his two teammates well.

"Welder and a size three laser-scalpel!" First Aid, who was assisting in operating on Bluestreak, handed him the required tools. "Here!" As Ratchet tried to get underneath one of Bluestreak's components to get at the damaged one a patch on line broke from the pressure it was being put under. "Clamp down on that fuel line!" First Aid hurried to do so. "Done."

"Ratchet! Sides is getting bad again!"

"Fraggit; I'm servo-deep in Bluestreak Wheeljack! What do you expect me to do?"

"Blue is stable for the moment Ratch, just get Hoist to patch the fuel-lines for now so that he doesn't leak out! Sideswipe is fading again, and fast! I think one of the cables to his spark-chamber has been damaged!"

Ratchet almost tore his hands out of Bluestreak's chest when he heard that; those cables were appalling to fix when they got damaged, and depending on how the damage had occurred it could result in permanent damage that would put Sideswipe out of _anything_ strenuous for the rest of his life. Carefully detangling himself from Bluestreak's wires he hurried over to Sideswipe, whose armour was gaining tiny patches of grey. His chestplates were still open from the earlier operation to fix some of the damaged components within. This matter, however was much more serious than those had been and he readily cut through the latches separating Sideswipe's spark-chamber from the rest of the world. At first glance he didn't see the damage, but Ratchet was not the CMO of the Ark for nothing and managed to find a hideously twisted and damaged cable near the bottom of the spark-casing. What made his spark freeze for a moment though was the status of the connectors, in this case the worst one being the one directly attached to the spark chamber.

It had clearly been damaged from a burn at some point, making it rather brittle. It was not damage that could be easily repaired. The cable itself? Yes. The connector? Very few medics had ever managed it successfully and Ratchet was not one of them. Most of the danger came from operating on the spark-chamber itself which could adversely affect the spark. That, in turn, could attempt to defend itself by sending off surges of energy, thus damaging the connector even more, if not damaging the medic and destroying the connector outright.

If it had been any other situation, Ratchet would not have risked even replacing the cable, let alone the connector, but this was triage and his patient would die if he didn't _do _something.

"Fetch me a replacement cable, length S, colour blue! ASAP!"

He heard someone run off at full tilt (those vents were really working too hard) to storage, which thank _Primus_ wasn't far, to fetch the requested cable. Meanwhile Ratchet focussed all his attention on the sparking cable, using a pair of rubber tongs to partially seal off the cable and stop the energy leakage. On the monitors Sideswipe's spark did seem to stabilise a bit, but Ratchet could not stop at this point. Ever so carefully, keeping one hand on the prongs, he held out a hand. Without prompting Wheeljack gave him two stoppers, so that Ratchet could remove the damaged cable with no further loss of energy.

This was the other problem represented by any fixes around spark-chambers. Their sparks depended on the energy provided to exist; if deprived of it they would extinguish. As it was, clamping off one cable to the spark was dangerous, having energy leak from a frayed or broken one brought near or certain death, depending on the amount of energy leaked (It had something to do with the balance of energy in a spark, but Ratchet was a bit too busy to think about anything other than fixing his patient).

Wheeljack took over the prongs for a moment, holding them steady as only a scientist who regularly dealt with strange weapons could, while Ratchet transferred one stopper to his other hand. Through a bit of fiddling and much use of his dexterous medic's servos he managed to swap out the cable for the two stoppers. Sideswipe's readings dropped again as his spark destabilised slightly from the lack of energy to one side of the chamber. At least the readings were stable now, and not being influenced by the fluxes of a damaged cable.

Now to check on some of his other patients while they waited for that cable.

* * *

Twelve hours later, long after he'd sent the others on to recharge, Ratchet himself went to the berth in his office to rest for a while. First Aid had been put on duty to watch all those still in the medbay, but Ratchet wanted to be close in case there was an emergency.

It wasn't unlikely, as even after so much surgery Sideswipe was only just out of the danger zone. Bluestreak would not be ready to leave the medbay for some time due to some necessary recalibrations to his processor as a result of the damage inflicted by the Combaticons and Slingshot had only awoken once since they'd finished working on him, as opposed to the usual half-a-dozen times he'd wake up after less serious procedures, demanding to see his team. Getting your wings ripped off and a good lot of your armour to boot would do that to you. At least his internals hadn't been quite so bad off as the other twos'.

Most of the other bots were not a badly off as those three though and had been dismissed, for their dents to be properly pounded out when they reached priority status on Ratchet's list (which would be a long time coming).

At least the medbay was quiet now. The only remaining patient who was not on the priority list was Sunstreaker, refusing to leave his brother when the former was stuck with only minor injuries. Ratchet hadn't had the spark or the energy to try and kick Sunstreaker out of there, not when Sideswipe had come so close to dying and could still tip back over should anything untoward happen.

The worst thing about the red twin's situation was that he'd probably never fight again. Ratchet, despite his long years as a medic had not specialised in the medical field that Sideswipe needed and would not be able to fix the problem without a considerable risk to the twins' lives. If they hadn't been at war, Ratchet might have been able to afford the risk and the other officers would have supported him. As it stood, they needed every warrior they had, and risking both of them for the chance to make one of them capable of fighting again was too great a risk. Never mind their own feelings or the feelings of their medic, the war was still priority number one and that was not likely to change anytime soon.

Ratchet did not look forward to telling them this.

* * *

AN: So I know some of you were expecting a continuation of the battle scene. Reading and writing battle scenes is not my forte and I'll gladly admit it, so I skipped straight to the aftermath, which is more important to the story anyway.

Closing question: What kind of plot do you think I'm gunning for?

Reply in reviews (and even if you haven't got any expectations, review please).

Eli


	3. Broken

**AN:** So it's my birthday today and you guys get a(n early) present. Enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Transformers or any poems by Siegfried Sassoon.

**Warnings: **Angsting, panicking, pessimistic, angry Sunstreaker.

**Acknowledgements: **I forgot to mention the lovely the-spoon-of-doom who encouraged me to write this when I presented her with the original idea (and storyboard, which hasn't actually changed much since I wrote it).

**The General by Siegfried Sassoon**

'Good-morning; good-morning!' the General said  
When we met him last week on our way to the line.  
Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of 'em dead,  
And we're cursing his staff for incompetent swine.  
'He's a cheery old card,' grunted Harry to Jack  
As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.

. . . .  
But he did for them both by his plan of attack.

* * *

Sunstreaker stalked through hallways like an angry tiger sending bot after bot scuttling to the side in order to avoid him. He hadn't been in the best of moods since the battle and his brother's near-death and this ridiculous summons by Prowl was grating on the last remaining shred of his tether. Sideswipe still hadn't woken up and his only consolation so far had been that Ratchet had deemed the situation safe enough to move back into his own quarters, rather than be on hand for all emergencies in his office.

Of course he could still feel his twin via their bond, but that was paltry comfort when his brother lay on a berth like he was dead. Ratchet had put heavy medical buffering in place to prevent Sideswipe from waking up, in order to speed his recovery along. Or so the medic had said.

Sunstreaker couldn't help but suspect something else was wrong. It was the way Ratchet looked at first Sideswipe then Sunstreaker himself, as if he didn't know what to say. Usually Ratchet always had something to say and him being lost for words was unusual to say the least. Since the last major operation he'd stayed on edge because of this shift in attitude because he suspected it meant bad news.

At least he knew it wasn't that Sideswipe was going to die, no, that much had been said, his twin was not going to the Well anytime soon (and to those who said he was going to the Pit, they could go frag themselves). On the other hand what could be so wrong with Sideswipe that Ratchet was afraid of saying it? If Sideswipe was going to be out of action for a long time they would handle it. Sideswipe always had to take care of Sunstreaker's social inadequacies so Sunstreaker would keep Sideswipe from offlining of boredom. He had no idea how he'd do it but he would do it, whatever it took.

He finally arrived at Prowl's office and entered, only to stop and stare when he saw the collection of officers in front of him. There was Prowl, looking somehow more… controlled than usual and Ratchet looking more tired and defeated than he'd ever seen the CMO. If the latter hadn't set internal alarms in his processor off already they would definitely have been activated by the uncharacteristically grim Jazz, who wasn't even leaning against the wall in a (faked) casual pose. He could also feel thick tension in the air, as if there had just been an argument between the three.

Sunstreaker did not like the look of this at all. So he turned snappy, like he was prone to do when a situation didn't agree with him. "What's this about Prowl?"

Prowl's doorwings tensed up slightly and his face became, if possible, even more severe. It was the face that every judge and policeman wished they could have, if only to scare the impertinent little brats who had been giving them shit into running home to their mothers.

He didn't speak though, instead Jazz spoke grimly, "This is about Sideswipe's… situation."

Sunstreaker's spark went cold with fury and then with fear. No. _No. NO!_ This was not happening. This could not be happening, he refused to believe it.

None of the officers continued, evidently waiting for him to voice the question. Or maybe they were lost for words, these mechs whom he trusted to order him what to do on the battlefield, to give him intel, send him to the right spots and fix him when he was injured. He was not the one who talked. They were.

If he couldn't trust them to talk right now when he needed them most, how would he be able to trust them on the battlefield again?

They remained silent and through gritted denta he ground out "_What_ about Sideswipe?"

This time it was Ratchet who replied, "If you're worrying that I am about to tell you he's on his deathbed, don't. He's not going to die. It's much worse."

His voice was soft, much softer than he'd ever heard Ratchet address him before, and it twisted his world. He felt like he'd been dropped into a chasm; a deep, dark, icy chasm from which he would never be able to come out. What surrounded him in that chasm was fear; pure unadulterated fear that permeated every part of his being, never to be removed again. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since…

And Ratchet was continuing, oblivious to Sunstreaker's turbulent emotions.

"A connector on his spark casing was damaged."

Wait, was that _it_? Was that all that was wrong with Sideswipe? Why would Ratchet be making such a big deal of this?

"It was deemed too risky to attach a new cable to the connector, resulting in some instability in his spark. Since I do not have the medical expertise to replace the connector this condition is permanent."

What? Why couldn't Ratchet replace this connector thing. Sunstreaker had seen them plenty of times when ripping casings out of chests, they were just little ports in a spark chamber. So what if it was close to a mech's spark, for Primus's sake it was just like replacing a fragging port. Right?

"Why?" The word didn't seem to come from him, it was more like a moan than a word and Sunstreaker knew, made sure, he never sounded like that. He didn't even know what he meant by the question.

Ratchet seemed to though. "Even on Cybertron operations to replace connectors on a spark-chamber were heinously difficult and only the most qualified experts could perform them. There was always a fifty/fifty chance whether they'd work, no matter how qualified the medic in question. I have never performed nor observed such an operation. If I tried it, the likelihood of Sideswipe surviving would be less than five percent."

Less than five…?

"What's going to happen to him?" Again the words didn't seem to come from him and contained more moan than words.

This time it was finally Prowl who answered, "He's never going to be able to fight again."

* * *

AN: I'm never going to be able to keep to "a chapter a week" am I. Oh well, I have chapters four through seven written already as well as part of twelve and all of thirteen.  
My muse really likes this story.

Next time: Guilt

Review please. :)

Eli


	4. Guilt

**AN:** Since I'll be busy tomorrow and probably too tired to post you guys get yet another early post.

No poem this chapter since I can't remember if one inspired this and can't be bothered to go find one that might marginally fit.

Oh, now I _do _remember; it was music not a poem. "Arrival to Earth" by Steve Jablonsky (and no, the title had nothing to do with the content of this chapter, it was more the feelings the music gave me).

Yes it's movie music. I still like it.

**Warnings:** Really heavy on angst in the second part.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers.

Enjoy!

* * *

The first thing Sideswipe knew when he woke was pain.

So he said "Ow," or tried to at least.

His vocaliser felt like it had been used to shriek in the dulcet tones of Starscream, ripped out, taken apart and put back together again. Well maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was a good one. He could use it for another injury, he just had to change the analogy from Starscream's vocaliser. Starscream's aft after Megatron had fragged him? Sounded much better and was bound to get some interesting comments.

If he was ever able to move again. Seriously, it felt like his plating had been replaced by osmium weights. Well since the last thing he remembered was Brawl trying to stomp him into the ground maybe something odd like that had happened after all. At least he knew by the blinding orange shade of the Ark that he wasn't a Decepticon prisoner which was a considerable mood-booster.

Suddenly a splash of yellow entered his vision and he tried to croak out "Sunny!" through his vocaliser. Seeing as that thing was still not cooperating he switched to their bond. To his surprise, he found himself warded off by Sunstreaker. The only times Sunny usually did that was when he had something to hide and by the strength of the shield it must be important.

Sideswipe instantly wanted to know what it was. He was sure Sunstreaker could feel his need to know over the bond, but the yellow twin didn't respond at all. Huh. That was odd. Sunstreaker normally would at least have snapped at him for prodding at his secrets. He gave his brother a closer look, noting the tense posture and the grim line of Sunstreaker's mouth.

Okaay… so the secret was pissing his brother off. What else was new? Everything pissed Sunstreaker off at one point or another. It was a fact of life.

Red and white appeared within his vision and he made a sound with his vocaliser. It didn't sound anything like the delighted cry of "Ratchet!" he'd wanted to release.

"Don't try to talk. Your vocaliser is still calibrating." Sideswipe had expected the order; that was how Ratchet ordinarily told his patients he was happy they were healing. He hadn't expected the somewhat shaky tone that gave voice to the order. It didn't sound like Ratchet at all.

Sideswipe was beginning to feel no small measure of alarm, but as soon as he realised this, the machine next to him beeped and Ratchet said, "Calm down. Sunstreaker will explain things to you later. First we've got to go through all the checks." Ratchet's gruff tone was getting a bit better, but it was still too soft, too foreign for Sideswipe to identify it with Ratchet.

However he trusted Ratchet's words and he trusted his brother to explain what had Ratchet so… worried? Yes, Ratchet was worried. About Sideswipe. That didn't make sense because Sideswipe felt fine. Ratchet only worried about those who were dying and he was unable to help them.

Dying? Had someone died and that was what had got Ratchet into this mood. Oh, no. Bluestreak had been fairly badly injured when he'd faced off against Brawl; Sideswipe had seen the sniper collapse before Brawl had come over to fight him.

Oh frag. He couldn't ask Ratchet about it because his vocaliser wasn't working and it would be tactless anyway to ask a medic about someone who might (he was not going to automatically assume Blue was dead, no way) have died on his table. Sunstreaker was still blocking him for some odd reason, but he'd figure that out later. First on his list was finding out why Ratchet was so upset, second was fixing himself up. His brother's moods hung around for ages anyway, there would be plenty of time to figure out what had got his brother's panties in a twist (oh how he loved human expressions!).

* * *

Ratchet let the doors close behind him as he left the twins alone to talk things out. Sideswipe had regained some mobility and the use of his vocaliser, keeping up with his normal oblivious stupidity throughout the set of medical tests.

It hurt.

It hurt to see him and know he could do nothing to help; that his many years as a medic, as CMO to the _Prime_ himself were not enough to help one mech heal.

It hurt more than those who had died in his medbay; he could let them go with time.

Sideswipe would always be there, reminding him of his _complete failure_.

Now he was waiting like a coward in his own office, unable to tell his own patient what was wrong with him. He waited for the outburst of rage at Ratchet's incompetence, for Sideswipe to tell Sunstreaker to hurt Ratchet. He wanted to hurt, physically at least. It was better than carrying around the weight in his spark that told him to _fix this_. Not only his spark, no. His base protocols, the medical ones, were screaming at him to fix the patient, the patient was not healed yet, Ratchet still had work to do. It wasn't like when a patient died and he could console himself that he'd done all he could.

_It hurts so badly_.

Caught up in his heavy thoughts, he didn't notice he had sunk to the floor and that his hand was clutching at his chest, trying to give him some futile comfort. Comfort he did not think he deserved.

Sunstreaker's sudden, desperate cry of "RATCHET!" shoved his self-loathing aside and he pushed himself up and sprinted back into the medbay. Sideswipe was lying limp on the berth and monitors were going haywire all around him.

He was still awake and looking around with despairing optics; they locked on to Ratchet's ones and didn't let go. Protocols snapped into place immediately; patient is panicking, calm down patient before they damage themselves. He went around silencing the machines, which were obviously exacerbating Sideswipe's panic-attack, telling Sunstreaker on the comm to tone down on his own panic, but not to block the bond with his twin as that could have an adverse effect on the latter.

A few minutes later everything had quietened down and Sideswipe was once again mobile. Silence stretched between the three like an invisible barrier that none of them were willing to break. Ratchet's guilt returned full-tilt and it was all he could do not to curl up around his aching spark.

He only managed it because he knew it wouldn't be fair to them. They weren't cut out for this sort of thing, had no idea what they were doing and were going to do. Their entire lives had been changed.

Of course Sunstreaker could go on as normal, doing everything he usually did, but where one went the other followed.

Having Sunstreaker go out alone on the battlefield would break their sparks.

So Ratchet had to be strong, no matter how much pain he felt or how much he wished it could be otherwise. He had to be able to respond to their cries to matter how desperate or dangerous the situation.

He owed them that because he had failed them.

* * *

AN: Yep, angsty Ratchet.

Is this technically filler with no bearing on the plot whatsoever. Yes.

Is the next chapter going to be more filler and character exposition. Yes, that too.

Could I technically write this fic in 10k words and cram it into one chapter. Yep.

But I don't want to, so next time you get "Bitter".

Review please (I like criticism, it makes way for great discussions).

Eli


	5. Bitter

**AN:** For once I managed a weekly post. I'm writing bits and pieces of the later chapters at the moment so apart from chapter 6,7, and 13 none of the others are done yet. I don't know whether that means updates will be delayed or not, so we'll just have to see in two weeks time.

**Warnings:** See Chapter Title

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers.

Poem is (yet another) Siegfried Sassoon

.

**Does it Matter?**

DOES it matter?—losing your legs?...

For people will always be kind,

And you need not show that you mind

When the others come in after hunting

To gobble their muffins and eggs.

.

Does it matter?—losing your sight?...

There's such splendid work for the blind;

And people will always be kind,

As you sit on the terrace remembering

And turning your face to the light.

.

Do they matter?—those dreams from the pit?...

You can drink and forget and be glad,

And people won't say that you're mad;

For they'll know you've fought for your country

And no one will worry a bit.

* * *

"Well, aren't you coming? Or are you afraid of getting slagged you oversized rust bucket?"

Sideswipe gritted his denta. On the best of days he could barely put up with minibot antics, something really grated on him, the ways they acted. However this was not even the best of days, no, this would count amongst the worst of days Sideswipe had ever had. He couldn't fight, couldn't brawl, couldn't train, couldn't do _anything_ that he'd done before the "incident" as it was now delicately put by some of the other mechs. Well they could stuff their delicacy right up their afts. Sideswipe did not need to be coddled, not now, not ever, although it didn't mean that he could be taunted for being a fragging _cripple_.

Not that anyone outright called him that –no- the cowards just stepped around it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Sideswipe was sort of aware that he was acting exactly like his brother. His brother on a bad day, that is, which was even worse.

The little fragger in front of him, he knew it was Brawn, yes, but _little fragger_ suited him so much better, Sideswipe couldn't wait to get his hands on the little –wouldn't that human term, bastard, be better?- fragger, then the frontliner would show him how crippled Sideswipe was.

Except he'd never make it as he'd fragging found out _seven times_ already. Any sudden movements, of his own volition that is, and Sideswipe was down and out for the count. People could pick him up, move him around as they wished -as Sunstreaker had already done, much to his brother's chagrin- it was as if he was some sort of life-sized doll that had to be either manhandled or treated with extreme care, depending on the bot in question.

He wasn't even allowed to be around humans anymore, Ratchet kept on worrying that he'd seize up and fall on one of them –as if the squishies couldn't dodge- _for no good reason_. It wasn't as if Sideswipe was _Prowl_ after all, whose processors locked up a fair amount when in the presence of the mostly illogical humans.

The worst had been not being able to respond to an attack, which was partially what Brawn was taunting him about. Brawn had been on some mission that had lasted him a couple of weeks, thus missing most of what had happened to Sideswipe. He didn't know that if Sideswipe moved too quickly he'd collapse or freeze for a while and only be able to move again once his spark had stabilised. Brawn had heard about it and, like all minibots, had immediately, without evidence, assumed Sideswipe was playing an elaborate prank to get out of working or doing anything.

Sideswipe wished he could smash the little bastard's faceplate in. However he had promised Sunstreaker he wouldn't do anything while his brother wasn't around to help him. Well he hadn't wanted to promise that, but upon feeling Sunstreaker leak some of his worry and despairing fear over the bond, he'd decided he had to. He couldn't leave his brother feeling like that; he hadn't last time and he wouldn't this time. Even if this time was much worse because Sunstreaker knew that just a _bit _too much stress on Sideswipe's spark and it would destabilise completely, without hope of recovery, and snuff out.

The only good thing about Brawn being so uninformed was that he hadn't sent Sideswipe a look of pity yet, which might have driven him over the edge enough to break his promise to his brother. Mocking and taunting he could take, he did taunt Decepticons in battle and they taunted him right back, but someone looking at him like he was broken, or fragile, was not on.

Sunstreaker hadn't looked at him with pity, just despair. Bluestreak had though, with big blue optics that made Sideswipe want to call the gunner pathetic, which would have broken the latter's spark. He hadn't at the time, although it had been quite close.

Surprisingly someone with a fairly similar attitude to Bluestreak concerning pitying others hadn't even looked him in the optic yet. First Aid's brothers had all given him identical unreadable looks and First Aid just hadn't looked at him. Sideswipe had seen the shame and guilt on his face though, similar to what Sideswipe had seen on Ratchet's. Their medical coding was screaming at them for being unable to fix him. He'd wanted to say something to both of them, for them not to blame themselves, but hadn't found the right words.

He wished he had the right words for Brawn about right now; something to make the minibot _back the frag off _before Sideswipe did something stupid which would break his promise. At least Sunstreaker was on his way now to kick some minibot aft and provide entertainment for Sideswipe. He'd been taken off of most his duty shifts; anything that could cause him to panic or get excited –did they think he was a complete _cripple_?- was deemed too hazardous for his health.

The "get excited bit" bothered him the most because it meant he couldn't do a lot of things that were not part of duty shifts, like some of his really exciting racing games. To replace them, Prowl had suggested chess. _Chess._ He might as well die of boredom now.

At least Sunstreaker had arrived now and he'd get some form of fun. Yeah. Right.

What a _fun_ life he was _living._ He really should _thank _the Combaticons next time he saw them for making his life unbearably _pleasurable_. In fact, once Sunstreaker was done with the annoying minibot they should plan out a "thank you!" present, or party for them. Maybe with some corrosives and some paintball guns. Except he'd never be allowed to come along, not by anyone in the ark, and he'd have to rely on his brother's recordings which, although good quality, were not as good as _being there_.

Fun indeed.

* * *

AN: As for the next chapter, plot starts happening. Well, at least it's hinted at.

Hope all my readers enjoyed. Please Review.

Eli


	6. Plan

AN: The update was slightly late because I wanted to catch up on my writing. Needless to say I didn't manage to write more than 200 words which made the delay completely useless.

Quote for today is from the song "Be Prepared" from the Lion King.

This chapter is probably one of the most cheerful of the entire story. There is also the mystical thing known as "Plot" happening. Or at least being hinted at.

"_So prepare for the coup of a century! So prepare for sensational news!"_

* * *

Laserbeak landed on Megatron's arm after her rather successful mission. Her gathered information this time was _prime_ intel and she'd surely be rewarded for it. Indeed, when Megatron found out about the red twin's problem he roared with laughter before calling a meeting between officers to discuss this latest development in the war.

"Well, _get on_ with it then. Some of us have _actual _work to do."

That comment came, of course, from the one and only Air Commander and _Second_-in-Command of the Decepticons. His voice was so distinctive that no one could have mistaken his identity, even if they hadn't recognised him by bitchiness alone. The irony that one of the most fitting terms for his SIC was a human word never failed to make Megatron chuckle, in turn sending his screechiness into a massive tantrum that mirrored the eruption of a volcano.

Starscream already looked like he was heading for one of those today, but something else had Megatron so triumphant and exuberant. No doubt this mirth would affect even _this _Seeker, in fact Megatron would not be surprised to hear a spontaneous party amongst all the Seekers in light of the information he was about to impart on them. They hated, and feared (not that they'd ever admit it), the Autobot in the centre of said intel too much not to gloat as much as they could about it. Maybe Megatron should prepare a reward for the Combaticons, who had been the cause of all this.

Or maybe not. They _did _decide to disobey the unwritten rule after all, and Megatron had not liked Optimus Prime's repeated lectures, sorry_, messages _that had been left for him.

Anyway it was time to stop ignoring the by now irate Seeker who looked very close to erupting, since all his officers had arrived, though none of them looked very impressed by his short notice summons. This was especially evident in Scrapper, who looked as though he'd had to come out of recharge to attend.

"My fellow Decepticons, today Laserbeak has brought us some most interesting news."

Starscream -_it was always Starscream, wasn't it?- _scoffed and said "That little pest brings information every day. What could be so important as to _drag us from our work?_"

Hmm. Starscream was even more irate than usual. What had he interrupted that would make the Seeker so foul-tempered? He'd ask Soundwave to check the cameras in Starscream's quarters later, just in case it was another takeover plot.

"Oh you'll find that this will interest you quite a bit, if not make you _just _as excited as I am now. You too, Onslaught." The last remark had meant to stir the Combaticon leader's interest as until now he'd just sat in his seat, looking bored out of his mind (never mind that he could be thinking of thousands of strategies for any and all possible reasons. Some of which Megatron really wished he didn't know about).

Onslaught did perk up a bit while Starscream sat in his place, still seething.

"It appears that, although there were no _deaths _on the Autobot side last battle, there will be at least one warrior less on the battlefield, maybe two."

Starscream's wings twitched and his irritation faded entirely. Shock replaced it.

It took Onslaught, who was more in control of himself, a mere second to process the situation and ask for the confirmation. "Sideswipe?"

"Play the recording Soundwave." Soundwave did as was asked and soon they were greeted with Ratchet's worried voice.

"- _can't keep doing this to yourself Sideswipe. One day you'll stress yourself too much and destabilise your spark completely. Then poof! No more Sideswipe."_

_ "I can't do this Ratchet. I'm so fragging bored I feel like I'll have to go talk to Wheeljack to make me blow up just for something __**exciting **__to happen. I can't train, can't play any of my favourite games, can't drive at anything faster than 30 mph, __**can't beat up slagging minibots who don't know when to shut up, I CAN'T DO ANYTHING! **__I'm a fragging __**cripple.**__"_

Sideswipe seemed to have had enough, and he sounded more agitated than any of the Decepticons could ever remember him being. He was known for being easy-going after all. Well, more easy-going than his twin at least.

_"Well find something else to do-"_

_Recording ended_

Megatron looked at his officers to see their reactions. Onslaught looked smug; no surprise there. It had been the Combaticon who had inflicted most of that damage, even if it had got him beaten up by Sunstreaker later. This way Onslaught would not even have to think of a plan for revenge, the deed was already done.

Starscream looked positively gleeful; the twins had been lasers in the Seekers' sides for a long time now, and to have one of them _crippled_ was like a gift from Primus.

Oddly enough, though he didn't look any less tired than before, Scrapper seemed more thoughtful than happy. Megatron waited patiently for the query; ordinarily he would have simply demanded Scrapper's input but today he felt quite… generous.

Finally it came. "What is the injury? Hook is bugging me about it; he wants to know what even _Ratchet _couldn't fix."

Megatron didn't know, didn't care. As long as Sideswipe was out of battle for good, the Decepticons could gain ground. _Would_, not could.

"Insufficient data." Soundwave replied, meaning Laserbeak did not find that out, for whatever reason.

Scrapper frowned slightly, transmitting the negative back to Hook and wincing at Hook's irate exclamations. Or so Megatron imagined. It wasn't like he could hear the conversation.

Just then, as they did every so often, the glimmerings of an idea, a plan, came to him. It unfurled itself in his mind like an organic flower; simple and pretty and with much to gain. A smirk bloomed on his face as the bounties of his master plan seemed to appear before him.

His officers all took note of the change in his expression and waited (some with impatience) for their lord's newest plan ("foolish" plan according to Starscream).

"Onslaught, how far do you think Sunstreaker would go for his brother?"

* * *

AN: Just to note; Megatron did plan the Combaticon attack, he's just keeping up appearances as the infallible ruler (and failing badly ever since he got to earth)

Basically, if a plan goes wrong or has unfortunate consequences he blames it on someone else. Usually Starscream.

Thank you very much to Dark Sirocco, with whom I have had a few interesting conversations concerning this fic. Siro gave me the following snippet to use in. It has to do with Megatron's unwanted messages...

::

BEEEEEP!

Soundwave: You have reached the voicemail of...  
Megatron: The-All-Mighty-Mega-wait, is this thing recording? It is? Slaggit. Should we just start ov-BEEEEEP!  
Soundwave: We apologise for the inconvenience, but this voicemailbox is full. Please try your comm again later.

::

And that was probably the funniest moment of the fic and I didn't even write it. Thanks again Siro.

Hope you all enjoyed and review please!

Eli


	7. Kidnapping

**AN:** Here is the seventh chapter and we're coming up to the halfway mark (chapter eight). Thank you to everyone who reviewed; you guys light up my days!

**Warnings:** Nothing really that you haven't seen before. Some angst, some despair, some mentions of violence. Nothing big, really. Well, apart from plot happening.

Poem for today is by Rupert Brooke. It's a poem that Sideswipe would take quite a dim view to, in his current state.

**Peace**

Now, God be thanked Who has watched us with His hour,

And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping,

With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,

To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,

Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,

Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,

And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,

And all the little emptiness of love!

/

Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,

Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending,

Naught broken save this body, lost but breath;

Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there

But only agony, and that has ending;

And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.

* * *

Ugh, what an _awful _day it had been so far. Not only had Sideswipe awoken to a near empty base, he'd found out his brother had helped _Prowl _confiscate some of his favourite games, replacing them with _board games_. No wonder board and bored sounded similar; one evoked the other.

He didn't know where all the action was taking place, Sunstreaker was keeping his end of the bond firmly closed and there was no way he was getting through that. Teletraan One had also been left with clear instructions not to give Sideswipe the location of the Decepticon attack and he hadn't even bothered questioning his fellow Lamborghini Red Alert.

So he'd decided to go out for a drive; keeping to the speed limit Ratchet had set him.

Well maybe five or so over that, but it wasn't like _thirty-five _mph was going to kill him, right?

Or so he'd thought until he heard the tell-tale sound of jet engines. Maybe humans or some of the other Autobots would have been telling themselves not to panic, it couldn't _possibly _be the Decepticon Seekers. Sideswipe knew better. He'd been in close, _really close,_ proximity to those engines before and had loved to bring them down.

Now they were bearing down on him at speeds he could only rarely match with his jetpack. So Sideswipe did what came naturally to him, flip over into robot mode and prepare to launch for jet judo. Except he didn't have his jetpack with him; Ratchet hadn't seen fit to replace it as he'd thought the temptation would be too much for the reckless frontliner to resist.

Another thing that was missing was his shoulder-mounted rockets. All he had was the gun in his subspace, while the Seekers had the whole sky to evade him in – oh slag – and he'd just realised _which _two Seekers they were: Thundercracker and Skywarp. One was bad for him in this state, two was worse, far worse. He didn't have a hope of escaping, thanks to Skywarp, and he could be incapacitated quickly and at a great distance by Thundercracker's sonic booms.

As quickly as that realisation came, there was another one that followed even faster; they weren't shooting at him. What; did they also know that he couldn't fight? Now that was humiliating, not to mention he was just about sick of being treated like broken glass.

Suddenly one of the jets flashed and was gone. They'd been going at supersonic speeds, making it impossible for Sideswipe to hear one before he saw it coming, so he turned around; trying to spot where the fragger had warped to, only to get shot in the shoulder. To his surprise and dismay, instead of the familiar burn of laserfire his electronics started going numb. This could only be Null-Ray damage. What were those two doing with Null-Rays though? It was Starscream's signature weapon. It didn't hurt bots per say, when shot at certain areas, only rendering that area incapable of any movement thanks to the disruption of electrical flow. Even with the bad aim the Autobots joked the Decepticons to have, surely he couldn't have missed Sideswipe's chest at his distance?

The pieces began to fit together and Sideswipe's spark gave off that tell-tale flip before he was about to collapse from stressing it too much. This was a classic ambush, but instead of being out to hurt him, they were out to disable Sideswipe. They had also, evident by their lack of caution, been informed of Sideswipe's injury and incapability of properly defending himself.

He collapsed where he stood, seething in frustration at his stupid longing to go outside when he was so vulnerable. He was still online when two big, smirking forms landed next to his body.

"Well, well, well. Looks like the tables have turned." Thundercracker sounded smugger than Sideswipe had ever heard him.

Skywarp talked to him in a sing-song voice. "Guess who's not going to be grabbing at our wings anymore, Autodolt." It wasn't even a rhetorical question. "We can do _anything _we like to you now."

Sideswipe schooled his face into the filthiest look he could muster; one that Sunstreaker wore when he was feeling particularly fragged off. The Seekers apparently recognised it and Skywarp's wing gave a small twitch. That was enough of a reaction for Sideswipe to contort his face into a condescending sneer. Skywarp's expression changed from smug to furious when Thundercracker put a servo on his arm to stop him from doing something drastic that might offline Sideswipe.

They communicated silently for a few minutes over their comms and Skywarp's expression changed into a leer. He bent down over Sideswipe and gently stroked his face with one hand; wherever the other hand was, it was not in his range of sight and made him nervous.

"Say night-night Autobot." The other hand, the one he hadn't seen, slammed into his helm and it all faded away.

* * *

When he woke up again it was because someone was poking him _and _telling him to boot up. It felt comfortably similar to Ratchet, but as his optics booted up, he recognised the purple colour of the Decepticon base. Then he saw that the mech who was poking him was a decidedly grumpy-looking Bonecrusher and his recent memories returned.

Since it was _Bonecrusher _guarding him and undoubtedly the rest of the Constructicons were nearby he decided it wasn't worth the effort of trying to escape. He'd also probably collapse if he made any sudden movements, _thanks _to his condition.

So he said, "frag" quietly and tried to sulk while the (really fugly) Constructicon kept poking at him.

He also started wondering why he'd been brought here. It wasn't as if he was of any use to _anyone _in his current state. It had become evident with his treatment by the Seekers and the fact that he was in the medbay rather than the brig, the Decepticons knew about his "injury". So they couldn't want him to fight, or want to reprogram him to fight for them.

There was always the possibility they were going to take him apart for spare parts or to figure out Autobot weaknesses, but that was another unspoken rule of the part of the war taking place on earth; no disassembling. Although Megatron had broken this once on Optimus himself and as was obvious from the Combaticon involvement in Sideswipe's last battle the Decepticon leader was not entirely opposed to breaking the untyped rules.

In that case, why would they wake him up? To gloat over his broken form? That was unlikely, they'd get better results by taunting Sunstreaker on the battlefield.

The bottom line was that he had been kidnapped and he didn't know why. He had no hopes of escaping by himself and even less hopes of contacting his own faction.

All he could do was wait for whatever was to come.

* * *

**AN:** While reading this you might have asked yourselves why Sideswipe doesn't call for help or really try to fight back. Just to answer that pre-emptively, he doesn't call anyone because he knows it will be too late (and he doesn't think about the fact that it might just be assumed that he's off somewhere, sulking, instead of being kidnapped by the Decepticons) and he unfortunately knows his weakened body's limitations by now. The inclination to do jet judo is just instinct for him and he does realise that he cannot do jet judo in his state.

Any thoughts, comments, feelings about this chapter? Review.

Eli


	8. Shatter

AN: Gah, I'm sorry for the delay. Easter just did not sit with me and writing for some reason.

Then I got my account on AO3 and things started looking up. I'll be crossposting all my stories there in due time if anyone prefers that site over this one.

Here is chapter 8, an entire month late, and no inspiration from other media for this chapter except quiet and a distinct lack of internet.

* * *

When Sunstreaker got back to the Ark and found his brother missing, his already foul mood plummeted considerably. His paintjob had already been scratched to the pits and back today, he didn't have the time to go looking for his wayward, sulking brother on top of fixing his paint before debrief came along.

So he had to choose. Find his missing brother who had a possibly terminal condition (and worry always flared up again when he thought of it that way) or fix his appearance, something deemed of second importance only to Sideswipe.

Well that settled it, didn't it? His brother was most important, ergo his brother had to be found first. It had nothing to do with the fact that Ratchet had told him to find Sideswipe and get his idiotic brother prepped for a check-up after Ratchet fixed the worst of the battle-damage.

Sunstreaker concentrated on the bond, trying to find his twin's general location only to find that he couldn't, for some reason, sense Sideswipe properly. That meant his twin was either blocking him, or worse, lay somewhere unconscious.

Briefly, he panicked.

If Sideswipe was lying somewhere in the dust, unable to contact anyone, what would Sunstreaker be able to do about it? With the bond inactive he couldn't track down the wayward twin unless he was really nearby. Maybe he could convince Red Alert to send out the Sky Spy-

Sunstreaker then realised he was panicking and forced it down. He didn't know anything yet; his brother could be blocking him.

Maybe he should ask Red Alert for Sideswipe's whereabouts anyway.

An hour later and Sideswipe still hadn't been found. Sunstreaker had excused himself from debrief and was going into a full-blown panic. Red Alert had told him that Sideswipe had left the Ark when the battle was still in progress and had been tracked going off in the opposite direction. After it had become clear to the security director that the wayward twin was not going to barge into battle and was more likely heading off into a sulk he didn't bother tracking him; the battle and base security was more important.

He was racing in the direction Sideswipe had last been known to be heading. Prowl must have alerted the authorities to the very worried speeding Autobot since there were no patrol cars attempting to flag him down.

Instead, with the rumble of all-too-familiar engines, it seemed as though there were two Seekers preparing themselves for a strafe. Well Sunstreaker's paintjob was already scratched to the pits and back so it wasn't like he wouldn't have do redo it anyway.

Sunstreaker slammed on the brakes and transformed during the resulting skid, quickly turning around to face the oncoming threat. Then he waited for his moment.

Instead of going in for a strafing run, however, the two _slowed down_ and circled above him before transforming into their root modes and hovering in the air facing Sunstreaker with identical smirks. They had been absent from the earlier battle and it showed it their gleaming paintjobs. Sunstreaker with his recent battle-scars felt decidedly scruffy next to them and it only made him angrier.

Someone would have to pay for his terrible day and the Seekers had just become convenient targets. He would have to ask Ironhide score him, based on

But before Sunstreaker could do anything, Thundercracker held up his hands and said, "You might not want to do that today Autobot."

_That_ completely threw Sunstreaker. When had those two bolt-brained Seekers ever stopped themselves from getting into a fight with him? Especially when they had the (probable) upper hand?

"Why the frag shouldn't I shoot you two pigeons?", Sunstreaker bit out.

The Seekers didn't react to the taunt, except for Skywarp's stifled snigger, which was making this situation doubly unusual. Comparing a Seeker to an organic bird was normally an invocation for Seeker tempers.

"Isn't there a human saying which goes 'don't shoot the messenger'? We have a message for you from Megatron himself," said Thundercracker, "So don't shoot us."

Sunstreaker didn't care for any messages Megatron had for him, and was about to tell the flyboys exactly that when the unwelcome question of _how _they had known to find him here popped up. Sunstreaker didn't usually leave the Ark after a battle; no Autobot who had participated did unless there was a real need for it. How had they known that Sunstreaker would leave and that he would take _this _particular route?

Suddenly the lack of Sideswipe's responses took on an entirely new light. He wouldn't be able to respond _if he had been knocked out_.

Although that was a big if and there was little to no evidence for it. Megatron's message could just be for the first Autobot the Seekers came across. Why wouldn't he contact the Ark directly then.

Sunstreaker's internal debate took a few seconds, and although he kept his face in the same wary expression, some of his thoughts or more accurately, fears, must have shown on his face because Skywarp chimed in saying, "Don't you want to know what happened to your brother?"

Sunstreaker's world stopped then, stopped to focus only on two things; the Seekers in front of him and the bond with his brother. He'd been denying his earlier realisation, trying to put off the thoughts of _Sideswipe is captured, Sideswipe might die, Sideswipe, Sideswipe, Sideswipe! _Now there was no escaping it and he had to know what had happened.

"Where is he?" Sunstreaker asked in his most menacing tone.

To their credit, no matter how much he didn't want to give it, they didn't react with so much as a twitch of a wingtip to his tone and their smirks never left their faces.

Thundercracker spoke again this time, "Oh, you know the deal. Lord Megatron told us all about his deficit, we kidnapped him and you're going to come with us if you want him to not spend the rest of his life in agony."

Sunstreaker hated the cold, sinking feeling he got in his spark when he heard that; his guess had been correct, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

And no one at the Ark would know what had happened, they'd all think he had turned traitor. Cliffjumper especially would be overjoyed that his predictions of the twins one day becoming Decepticons would turn out to be true.

Unexpectedly, Skywarp spoke again while Sunstreaker was still recovering from having his being shattered, "Oh and by Lord Megatron's mercy you have a day to say goodbye to that hideous lump of metal you call a base. You can't tell anyone, just do it in your head or something. We'll be watching! Meet you here tomorrow _Sunny_!"

The Seekers transformed and roared off, leaving Sunstreaker to pick up the pieces of himself as the cold feeling in his spark took over him.

* * *

AN: I've just realised how terribly irritating the formatting on this site is.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/faved/followed so far. We're now halfway through and I have to wonder how I ever got this far.

Eli


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